Dreamstate
by nazo-nin
Summary: Professor Layton is being haunted by recurring dreams of a strange, alternate existence. Where are these visions of fantasy coming from? Why can't he get them out of his head? And what happens when his dreams start becoming disturbingly real? PL3 Spoilers
1. Chapter 001: Dreaming

_Greetings. This is a story I've been working on since the beginning of December 2010, and finally feel ready to begin sharing. As a head's up, this story is a pseudo-crossover, combining the world and characters of the Professor Layton series with an AU version of the world of a certain very popular book series (whose identity I imagine you'll guess quite quickly). The characters and events of said books will NOT play a part in this story, as they never existed in this AU. Instead, they've been replaced entirely by the Layton cast and the events in my head. Whee._

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><p><strong>Chapter 001 – Dreaming<strong>

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><p>Professor Hershel Layton stirred slightly in his sleep. He was having that dream again. He'd been having it more and more often lately.<p>

At a glance, it made some sense - he was an instructor after all - so why shouldn't he dream about teaching from time to time? No, that was fine. If he took the time to think about it, he should sooner find it a concerning statement about his tendency towards overworking, but that wasn't what was bothering him right now.

With a slight adjustment of position, Layton fell once more into the depths of his recurrent nightly vision.

Soon enough, he found himself once more in that (now ironically familiar) unfamiliar classroom. The whole place felt archaic. Not that he was complaining - he'd made appreciation of the ancient his profession after all - but he couldn't help but notice how its construction and decor stood in stark contrast to his usual lecture space at Gressenheller University.

The students' "personal decor" stood in stark contrast to the norm as well. Gone were the usual personal fashion statements attempting to scream declarations of individuality to the world while conforming clingingly to societal fads. In their place sat an array of eager faces in matching uniforms, color-coded to represent each child's values and strengths.

He frowned inwardly. When he thought about it that way it reminded him of the misguided caste systems of history and fictional literature. However, there was nothing so sinister here - merely identification and pride in the four divisions that served as family while the students attended this strange school.

Why did he understand so much about this place and its organization? He'd never even heard of the institution prior to his dreams, let alone visited or _taught_ there. Frustratingly, the name always faded each time he rejoined the real, waking world and he'd been unable to identify it thus far.

Trying to refocus on the present moment, he became aware of the strange sensation of having been viewing the scene from two different perspectives simultaneously. _Definitely dreaming._ The professor concentrated for a moment and felt his sense begin to root gently into a (primarily) first-person viewpoint.

"...-ill conclude the lecture for today. We still have some time left so I would like to open the floor for questions and discussion, " Hershel spoke with a soft smile. He surveyed the sea of faces before him with curiosity. A few had fallen deep in thought, seemingly searching for questions to ask. A few others (though reassuringly not too many) looked bored and kept sneaking glances at the old grandfather clock in the corner.

The professor allowed himself a small, amused smile as he laughed inwardly. There were always a few like them. It was an unwritten yet eternal law of the academic world, even in a class such as this all dressed in intellectual blue or hardworking yellow.

Finally, a young girl in the back of the room raised her hand hesitantly to address the teacher.

"Yes, Miss... Perri, was it?" The new school year always meant new names to learn, and he'd always made it a priority to do so as quickly as he could. Exceptionally quiet students like the girl in question tended to pose a bit more of a challenge.

The young lady blinked and nodded quickly with a shy smile before nerves regained control of her features. She avoided eye contact as she began to speak.

"Ah... Professor... Layton..." She seemed to be having second thoughts about speaking up. The professor chuckled lightly and smiled.

"Yes, my dear? You may feel free to ask whatever you wish. We are all here to learn, after all, and curiosity is essential to that function."

The girl processed his words for a moment before smiling embarrassedly and continuing with her query.

"Er, right. Sorry Professor. I was just wondering... I - we," she glanced around at her classmates. Layton got the feeling the next words he'd hear would be very familiar. To his amusement, this year's class had taken longer to broach the subject than usual.

"We've been hearing... r-rumors. The older students have been claiming you spend the summers living with... 'normal'... types. That you have a regular house like theirs... and spend time in their society. Is - is it true?"

Layton laughed gently and smiled. The flood would be coming with his next utterance.

"While the rumors always manage to greatly exaggerate the... oddities... of my chosen lifestyle, the basic gist of what you've said is, indeed, true."

Most of the class was staring intently at him now - even those who always seemed overly fond of the antique clock. On their faces were an intriguing mixture of emotions ranging from surprise and wonder to disturbance and confusion and non-envious awe. A short moment later and the questions were flying.

"W-what? Really?"

"How can you stand it?"

"How do you keep it secret from them?"

"Does that mean you use their money?"

"I-I heard you went to one of their colleges and pretended to be one of them!"

"Is your house electric?"

"Doesn't everything take forever?"

"Don't they find your wardrobe funny?"

The questions kept pouring out and Professor Layton calmly put his hands up to signal for quiet. His face held no sign of surprise at the sudden outburst but instead the calm acceptance of one who'd been through such an interrogation many times before. The class began to grow silent and stare in rapt attention for their instructor's reply.

"Well, let's see if I can't clear things up a little." He ticked off the questions he'd managed to make out in the chaos in his head, hoping his short-term memory was sufficient to remember most of them.

"Yes, I really do reside part-time in what would be considered most definitely one of _their_ neighborhoods. I can stand it because - well, simply put, I grew up that way. It's actually rather... nostalgic at times."

He paused for a moment, an amused grin on his features as he contemplated the students before him and their average views of the world.

"Since some of you seem to have come to the wrong conclusion, I will tell you that no, I do not forsake our gifts. I may live in a 'mundane' house, but I don't add needless inconvenience to my life more than what is necessary in order to blend in with their society."

A number of students lost the concerned or confused expressions on their faces and seemed to relax, satisfied by the answer Layton had given. He noted the remaining perplexed stares and thought back to the prior barrage of queries.

"Hmm, let's see now. I believe someone asked if my home was 'electric'?" Out of the corner of his eye he noticed one student perk up slightly.

"That is a topic we will be covering later, so I understand your confusion. Houses themselves are not 'electric' but can be built with metal wiring in their walls that transport electricity like water through a pipe and allow it to be accessed for use."

The student apparently responsible for the question seemed to shrink a little in embarrassment over his error. Layton frowned.

"There is no reason to feel ashamed," he reassured with a gentle smile. "It is quite the common misconception. The whole reason this class exists to begin with is because our society in general does not tend to understand such things... with the rare exception of eccentrics like myself who throw ourselves head-first into their world for the 'fun' of it all."

The class began laughing at that and the professor offered an encouraging smile to the self-conscious boy, making eye contact while being careful not to draw the others' attention to the lad with his gaze.

"To answer your original question, which we seem to have gotten away from, I do indeed have access to - and use - electricity while living at that home. There are actually quite a variety of impressive devices out there which run on it, and I assure you we will be covering some rather intriguing examples later on this term."

Layton felt his mood lift as the boy seemed to regain his confidence and smiled thoughtfully. In the back of his mind, though, the professor felt uneasy. His words to the class flowed so easily forth with the same confidence that carried him through his archaeology lectures, but at the same time he realized he had no clue what he was talking about.

Yet apparently some part of him _did._

It didn't make sense. He was also sure he was about to develop a bad headache from his confusion until he managed to recall that he was only dreaming. _None of this has been real. None of it matters._ He relaxed a bit and let that part of his mind drift.

Soon he found himself back in that strange dual-perspective mind state, viewing the scene unfold from both without and within his body. It was a strange experience indeed. He felt his concentration fading, his mind detaching from the world and events around him.

Even so, he continued with the class discussion, answering questions without missing a beat. Aware, alert, and attentive.

_... Automatic?_

Understanding slowly dawned. His role was shifting. No longer was he experiencing the strange dream. Now, he was merely watching, merely observing some sort of doppelgänger speaking nonsensically about "our world" and "theirs" ... whoever "they" were. The strange part was that it had all made sense when _he_ was the one speaking those words.

Or had he really? Was that actually him, or was he just an observer even then? He tried to make sense of it all, only to find himself fading faster and darker.

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><p><em>Disclaimer: I own neither the characters nor the worlds depicted herein, but only the new way I've chosen to combine them and the story I tell.<em>

_-nazo!nin_


	2. Chapter 002: Repeating

**Chapter 002 – Repeating**

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><p>Professor Layton stirred slightly in his sleep. The morning rays of sunlight lay across his eyes and he scrunched them tighter shut as he shifted to face the other way.<p>

He lay there a moment, tired mind convincing the rest of him that there was no need to get up just yet. The alarm clock on the stand next to him, however, didn't agree. With a muffled groan he reached over and turned it off, stretching and yawning from where he still lay on his bed.

Slowly he opened his eyes and stared at the clock before him. Had he really slept that late? Normally he awoke earlier on his own or at the sound of the children's alarms. He only used this alarm as a backup, and today, apparently, he'd needed it.

Speaking of the children, if he listened he realized he could hear them scurrying around downstairs, getting ready for the school day. With a sudden pang of guilt he forced himself out of bed and began to prepare for the day quickly himself.

A short while later he descended the stairs dressed in his usual dark trousers and orange shirt and trying to stifle another yawn. He entered the kitchen to find his two young wards at the table wolfing down a rushed breakfast before they had to leave for class.

"Be careful now you two. It would not do to hurt yourselves by eating too quickly."

The two children looked up from their meal to see their mentor standing in the doorway, a friendly smile on his face. They grinned and greeted him enthusiastically in unison.

"Good morning, Professor!"

"Good morning, Luke, Flora." He entered the room and made his way to the stove to put on some water for tea. "Did the two of you sleep well?"

"Yep!" Flora replied with a big smile. She glanced to her breakfast companion before continuing with a giggle. "Luke was just telling me about the funny dream he had last night." The young boy grinned in acknowledgement around the spoon in his mouth.

"Oh? Is that so?" Layton left the kettle to warm on the stove and joined the others at the table, giving the boy a questioning glance as he sat down. With his mentor's eyes on him, Luke just managed to reign in his perpetual enthusiasm long enough to swallow his food before speaking up. A gentleman must always mind his manners, after all.

"Heh, yeah, it was weird alright," the boy laughed. "I was at school with my friends and everyone, but the classroom looked funny and everyone was doing magic tricks. Kinda like that man we saw at the fair! But with no playing cards. And fewer rabbits. Oh, and everyone was dressed funny, too!"

The professor raised his eyebrow in amusement. It seems he wasn't the only one having strange dreams about (or at least _in_) academic institutions lately. At least Luke's dream involved familiar faces and places and didn't seem to be recurring.

"They were dressed oddly as well, you say? In what way?" Layton smiled. It was oddly comforting to have a discussion of someone else's dream to distract him from his own.

"Hrm, well..." Luke paused a moment and furrowed his brow as he tried to recall details from the previous night's imaginings. "I guess things weren't _too_ odd. Everyone was in uniform but the style and colors were different than usual." He laughed as he added, "I was still wearing blue, of course!"

Luke's companions laughed for a moment at his last comment, but in the back of his mind Hershel could hear two words pushing for his attention.

_Intellectual blue._

The professor shook his head briefly in an attempt to somehow 'clear' it before returning his focus to the morning's conversation. Luke looked as if he had more to say of his dream.

"The strange part of our outfits, I guess, was what was on top of the uniforms. For some reason, we were all wearing some sort of cloak or robe - kinda like the ones everyone wears for graduations, but not so shiny."

Layton felt something nagging at the back of his mind again and decided to press for further details despite his better judgement. "Was everyone dressed the same?"

Luke seemed a bit surprised by the question but smiled and answered anyway. "Yeah, basically. Everyone was wearing a uniform and a black cloak-thing. Only out uniform colors differed."

The professor went silent as Luke and Flora kept up a lively discussion about dreams and school and fun things they'd learned from their friends. To his relief, they didn't seem to have noticed the concerned frown he'd momentarily let cross his features at the boy's reply. The nagging thoughts were getting stronger and forming into words now.

Colored uniforms. Color-coding. Blue. Intelligence. Caste system. **No.** Categories? Houses. _What?_ Cloaks. Robes of black. Tricks. Illusion. Fantasy. Rabbits. Didn't his own students wear robes like that too over their uniforms? Wait, since when did he teach secondary-school students (excepting Luke and Flora of course)?

With a start, he came back to reality and realized he'd been lost in thoughts about his dreams again. This was getting annoying. Between the restless sleep and losing his focus at work he was amazed no one had noticed anything wrong.

So, it was with a second start that he realized the entire room had gone eerily quiet. Luke and Flora were staring at him.

"Are... are you all right, Mr. Layton?" Flora asked warily as she removed her hand from where she'd apparently been waving it in the man's face. He felt flustered. So much for his dream-induced distractions confining themselves to times of privacy.

"Ah! I'm fine, I'm fine. Nothing to worry about."

Luke eyed him skeptically. "Are you sure, Professor? You weren't responding and you looked like your were on another planet or something!"

With a mental jab at himself, Layton couldn't help but feel that that sounded about right. He sighed. "No really, I'm quite fine. I've just had a lot on my mind this morning. That's all."

The two children looked at each other, unconvinced, but silently agreed to let it go for now. Hershel caught the non-verbal exchange and sunk a bit. He knew that look in their eyes. They'd be watching for any excuse they could find to confront him with crazy imaginings of his deteriorating health.

They meant well, but really!

He excused himself quickly from the table and went to finish preparing his tea with the water that had long since reached the ideal temperature. Realizing the time, Luke and Flora rushed to clean up and head out the door for school, leaving their mentor to deal with food and preparation for his own day.

=-=-=-=-=-=%=%=%=-=-=-=-=-=  
><em>Later, that afternoon...<em>  
>=-=-=-=-=-=%=%=%=-=-=-=-=-=<p>

Compared with the awkward incident at breakfast, the rest of the professor's day, to his great relief, had so far passed relatively uneventfully. As he watched the overcrowded lecture hall empty after his last class of the day, he saw a young woman making her way towards his desk up front. He paused from packing up his notes and turned to face her.

"Ah, may I help you with anything, miss?" Hershel racked his brain for a minute, trying to place a name to her face. He certainly recognized her as one of his students but could not recall ever hearing her name.

"Oh, nothing important, sir! I just wanted to... to ask you something." Finally remembering the importance of eye contact, she looked up only to misinterpret the querying look on her instructor's face.

"Aahh! Sorry, we've never really even properly met or anything. I'm a freshman, and they said it's really rare for freshmen to get into this course, so I hope that doesn't cause any trouble or any - I promise I'm really supposed to be here! Registered and-!"

Layton could only stare at her blankly, wondering where in the world all this had come from. Then, remembering his own confusion at that age, he grinned nervously and raised his hands in surrender, hoping to end the girl's rambling before she worked herself into a full-on panic attack.

"It's alright, my dear! I know you're part of this class. Also, while freshmen in this course may be a tad unusual, they're certainly far from unheard of."

To his relief, the student seemed to calm quickly. With a flush of embarrassment at her outburst she decided to try again. "R-right. Sorry about that, sir."

"Think nothing of it," he dismissed with a wave of his hand. "And do not worry about being so formal - simply 'professor' will suffice. Now then, you indicated you have a question for me?" He smiled reassuringly at the young woman while kicking himself inside for not taking the opportunity to get his new student's name. Ah well, he'd get it sooner or later... sooner with the paper he knew was coming up.

"Ah, uh-huh! I do. Erm..." She looked confused for a moment before slamming her fist into her open palm in recollection. "Right. I've been hearing rumors from the older students."

_Rumors?_ The nagging feeling from this morning returned to mind. _Not now!_

"They claim you've been a professor since you were only twenty-seven years old! Is... is it true?"

"Hm? O-oh yes, it is," Layton smiled and attempted to hide the brief leap his mind had taken.

"Wow... That's cool!" the student laughed before glancing at the clock. "Ack! I'm gonna be late!" She grabbed her books in a hurry and turned to leave. "Sorry again about... you know... me losing it and all!" she called back over her shoulder on her way to the door.

The professor chuckled and sat back down at his desk, wishing her well as she left. He couldn't help but find his eyes drawn to the t-shirt she was wearing: colorful and emblazoned with text and logos commemorating some sort of team event. She left the room, shutting the door behind her, and Layton barely had a chance to register how glad he was to be sitting down as two realizations came to mind.

The girl's shirt read "Perri," and everything was going dark.

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><p><em>Disclaimer: I own neither the characters nor the worlds depicted herein, but only the new way I've chosen to combine them and the story I tell.<em>

_-nazo!nin_


	3. Chapter 003: Connecting

**Chapter 003 – Connecting**

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><p>Professor Layton stirred and opened his eyes, blinking in confusion. He faintly recalled the idea that he was about to pass out at his desk.<p>

Apparently he had been right.

Unfortunately, this wasn't his desk.

He scanned his surroundings to get his bearings. Wherever he was, he was not in any room he knew existed at Gressenheller or anywhere else in London (although admittedly, the latter left much room for error). With a sinking feeling he realized that he still somehow knew the room itself.

This was the setting from his dreams.

Which meant he must be dreaming again, and he hadn't actually woken up a moment ago. Reason indicated he must still be unconscious, slumped on top of his desk back in the lecture hall. It wasn't the most pleasant of notions, but after failing at his attempt to will himself awake he wasn't left with many options. He just hoped anyone who happened to find him could manage to rouse him before his unmoving form caused a panic.

Not to mention the ammunition such an event would give the suspicious and overprotective children waiting at home.

The professor leaned back in his chair and sighed. At least he was alone - most of these dreams had been full of clamoring, and rather _young_, students. He enjoyed teaching, but he generally preferred the older set... and after last night's dream and his full day of _real_ lectures he'd just finished, he was more than ready to be done and alone for a while.

Not thrilled with the idea of simply staring into empty space for the duration of his undesired slumber, he decided to poke around. Maybe something in this dream world would grant him insight as to just _why_ he kept coming here night after night. Without his fictional students around to inhibit and distract him, he was free to peruse his environment at will.

_Fictional students... Perri?_ Some parts of this whole ordeal simply defied explanation.

Hershel began his investigation. The room was strange. He'd already noticed the antiquity of design, but now he saw that layers of dust were the primary decoration adorning the dark stone walls around him. There were several rows of wooden desks, as well, comprising the lecture space, and it was obvious they could only accommodate a much smaller population of students at any given time than his actual teaching venues.

He returned to the front of the room where an odd assortment of items were set on display in much the same fashion he arranged artifacts for his lectures. Instead of ancient treasures however, his dream-self apparently had been teaching about television sets, imitation plants, and novelty lighting. He noted a rubber duck tucked into the mess as well.

He didn't even want to begin to think of how a dream interpreter would look at this vastly twisted caricature of his own life.

That thought stopped him cold.

No wonder these dreams had been bothering him so much! Every time he'd gotten caught up in their disturbance he'd been making connections between life and dream. What kept upsetting his normally disciplined and rational mental process wasn't having the dreams themselves, but the realization that the dream world mirrored his real one so closely, and _so strangely_ at that!

He shook his head. That still didn't satisfactorily explain why this affected him so much. He had a logical mind and could clearly see the differences between the two 'lives'. Maybe it was just the illogical nature of the dream world that threw him off so.

He resolved to push the topic from his mind - he wasn't getting anywhere with this and it felt pointless to put so much thought into fantasy.

Layton sat back down at the desk. Strewn across its surface were what appeared to be lecture notes - the handwriting even seemed to match his own if you looked past their calligraphic accents. A feathered quill pen and inkwell in the corner explained that.

Several other items were present as well. To one side sat a gradebook, again filled with flowing letterforms. To the other sat a teacup. Empty, with no sign of a teapot in sight. The professor mused briefly about whether his imagination was trying to make a statement or simply taunt and toy with him. He laughed once with a smirk and turned to the final item on the desk.

Sitting right in the middle was a small book. Thinking back, he realized he'd been resting his arms and head on it when he'd fake-awoken here earlier. Hershel reached for the tome and opened it.

A journal. His own, judging by yet another sample of handwriting. The linguistic style felt familiar as well. In his real life, he kept logs like this whenever he was investigating a mystery. With a laugh at the absurdity of it all, he found himself curious as to what sort of entries his dreaming mind would invent and began to read.

%=%=-=-=|-|=-=-=%=%

_I'm continuing to have the dreams. They haven't changed much since they began. Each night I find myself back in the lecture halls of my alma-mater, teaching the scientifically-inclined of the wonders of the ancient world. While I have to admit I enjoy lecturing on the subject, I can't imagine leaving my post here to do so full-time._

_What worries me is that these dreams now seem to be negatively impacting the quality of my sleep. I'm making do well enough despite, but I worry that my two "shadows" may be catching on. Flora has started inquiring as to my health whenever she sees me. Luke has yet to say anything, but I've noticed him observing me more closely than usual when he thinks I'm not looking._

_Thus far I've been satisfied that there is nothing to worry about, but as my rest is beginning to deteriorate I find myself wondering if perhaps those two are correct._

_I'm also debating bringing these "visions" of mine up with the Divination instructor. I don't put much faith in the practice personally, but correspondences between details in the dreams and the happenings of the subsequent days have been occurring far more often of late than simple coincidence may account for readily._

_The fact that Luke came to me this morning with a dream he'd himself had of us living in London year-round and entirely without the use of magic in our lives has me strangely unsettled as well._

_Perhaps I should consider arranging for someone else to cover my second subject for a term or two - the extra workload and the subject matter itself may be getting to me._

%=%=-=-=|-|=-=-=%=%

Hershel stared blankly at the book in his hands. This was getting ridiculous. Now he was dreaming about worrying about dreaming about his real life? That was it, he'd had enough. He let his head fall to the desk and pleaded with himself to wake up already.

Instead of granting his wish, however, the dream world decided to send him a visitor. There was the sound of a knock at the door, followed by the latch opening. A young boy peeked through the doorway.

"Professor? Are you in here?" an all-too-familiar voice called out. Layton lifted his head from the desk and stared dumbfounded at what, or rather _who_, he saw.

"Luke?" The boy perked up at hearing his name and began making his way straight for the desk, door swinging shut behind him.

"Ah! Flora and I have been looking for you. We didn't see you at dinner and got worried." Luke looked pointedly at the class materials strewn about the desk. "You've been working so hard you've forgotten to eat again, haven't you?" The boy wasn't smiling anymore.

"I... hrm." The professor wasn't sure how to respond. All he could think of was how Luke's attire matched that of the students in these dreams... and, he realized with a shock, also fit the description the real Luke had given this very morning of his classmates' clothing in his _own_ dream.

He was just about to contemplate the oddity of Luke suddenly appearing in this dream to begin with when he heard the boy calling his title urgently. He stared at the boy in pure confusion - Luke's mouth wasn't moving. Nor did he seem to notice when Flora's voice joined his own out of thin air.

Layton suddenly had a strong fear that he was losing his mind. Then, everything went dark once more.

"Professor! Please! Wake up!"

"Mr. Layton!"

The man in question became aware of the urgent voices on either side of him, as well as the sensation of small hands grasping at and shaking his shoulders. With a bit more effort that he thought should be strictly necessary he managed to lift his head and blink and the bright fuzziness around him. Slowly the world came back into focus.

He was at his desk in the real lecture hall, exactly where he'd passed out heaven-knows how long earlier. To either side of him were Luke and Flora, still clinging to him and staring with a mixture of fear and concern in their eyes. He tried to think of something to say, but drew a blank.

Eventually the trio recovered from their mutual stunned silence, the children fretting and the professor trying as usual to convince them he was fine.

"I simply fell asleep after my last class," he'd insisted, but the other two would not be convinced so easily. Eventually with a promise to discuss the day's incidents further later a truce of sorts was called and everyone went home.

When it came time to head for bed, Layton found himself dreading the dreams he knew would come yet again. Resigned to his nightly fate, he begrudgingly prepared for sleep.

As he climbed into his bed, he felt a strange and unsettling feeling spreading from the pit of his stomach. Chalking it up to stress, he prayed in his mind for some _decent_ sleep, lay down, and shut his eyes.

That night, the weary man had no dreams at all.

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><p><em>Disclaimer: I own neither the characters nor the worlds depicted herein, but only the new way I've chosen to combine them and the story I tell.<em>

_-nazo!nin_


	4. Chapter 004: Replacing

_I'm thrilled by the positive feedback I'm getting for this. Thank you! As far as the future of this story, I'm working on chapter 12 of the rough draft right now (which is still a ways before the end), so I've got a bit of material ready to type up and finalize. I also have a collection of artwork related to the AU that I hope to share with you soon. Thanks again for your support!_

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><p><strong>Chapter 004 – Replacing<strong>

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><p>Professor Layton stirred to the voice of his young apprentice calling out and shaking him awake. Again? At least this time he was comfortably in bed instead of slumped at a desk.<p>

"Professor! Come on! You're going to be late!" Luke pleaded. Late? He didn't have any morning classes this term, and he was fairly sure he didn't have any meetings today either. Then again, there was a reason he always had Luke help track his schedule.

Hershel sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes, realizing he hadn't been haunted by those pervasive dreams that night. His mood lifted and he turned his attention to the young boy's declaration.

"Sorry, I'm up, my boy. But... I'm afraid you'll have to remind me just what it is I'm running late for." He shifted his head side to side, stretching his stiff neck.

"What do you mean? You overslept! It's almost time for your first class!"

_What?_

He didn't care how tired he'd been. The thought of sleeping so long as to be late for his first lecture (which was in the afternoon that day) simply didn't seem possible. Besides, that brought up another important question: if his class was due to start soon, what in the world was Luke doing at home instead of being at his own school?

The professor turned to face the boy and finally opened his eyes. Immediately, he decided this must be a prank. It was clearly still quite early in the morning and Luke... Luke was dressed in a blue uniform and black robe. Where in the world did he get that just a day after having dreamed it up?

"Okay, very funny my boy. Why don't you go ahead downstairs and I'll meet you and Flora in a short while for breakfast?" he smiled gently at the boy. Luke just stared back in confusion.

"Downst- What are you talking about? Breakfast just ended in the Great Hall and you never showed up!" Now it was Layton's turn again to be confused. _Great Hall?_

"Luke, if this is still part of your joke..."

"What joke? Are you sure you're feeling alright, Professor?" The boy's face was growing quite concerned. "You've been acting funny lately... a-and you missed dinner last night too! When was the last time you ate?"

"Missed dinner? My boy, we ate after the two of you dragged me home from the University. Surely you remember-" He paused, remembering the dream the two children had woken him from the night before. It had left off with Luke - dressed exactly the same as currently - panicking about... his missed dinner. A sense of dread washed over him as he realized the implications. He hadn't escaped the dreams after all. He was still having them. A quick glance around confirmed it.

This was definitely _not_ his bedroom.

"Oh dear...," he muttered as he stared into space, concerned. Meanwhile, Luke was still staring at _him._

"Professor! Your class!" he cried out with a look of urgency on his face. Layton felt lost. He didn't know the rules and setup of this dream world, but he knew somehow that dream-Luke would not let him ignore them. He'd have to play along until he woke up... but what was he supposed to do?

"Er, right... right." The professor swung his legs over the side of the bed and got up. He looked around, trying to get a sense of the room's layout. Luke saw his hesitation and grabbed the man's arm, leading him to a closet in the, well, what he imagined would pass for the corner if the room wasn't so oddly _round._

"Go on. I'll go gather your notes for you! Are they in the usual place?"

"Ah, they... should be...," Hershel bluffed, hoping his imagination would be at least a little considerate to its current captive. Luke left the room and the professor turned to the closet. Opening it, he was greeted by a rather strange blue-and-black ensemble hanging right in front. After a moment of shock he was relieved to find a set of his normal attire farther back. He dressed quickly and soon heard a knock signaling the boy's return.

"Come on in Luke."

"I found your notes, Profe- why in the world are you wearing _that?"_

Layton blinked in confusion. "I almost always wear this."

"When we're in London! Oh never mind, come on!" Luke shoved the pile of papers into his mentor's hands and scanned the room in a hurry before making a beeline for what appeared to be the only clean teacup in the vicinity.

Meanwhile, the professor tried to sneak a quick glance through 'his' notes to see just what sort of mess lay ahead of him, only to get stuck on the first class's name. _History of Magic?_ He'd seen mention of magic in the journal as well, and come to think of it, real-Luke's dream involved a whole class doing magic tricks if he recalled the boy's words correctly.

This was absurd. He was not one to believe in magic, so why did the subject keep appearing in his dreams? He decided to take the risk and ask his apprentice outright.

"Luke," he glanced again at the notes, making sure he'd read them right. "What is all of this nonsense about _magic?_

The boy practically did a double-take at his mentor's question and turned to face the man, eyes wide. "That's it, now I KNOW you're not feeling well! M-maybe this will help..."

Luke walked forward. Layton watched curiously as the boy handed him the teacup and retrieved a strange wooden stick from somewhere under his robe. Mumbling something under his breath, he tapped the stick on the rim of the cup.

The professor stared in shock at the cup. What had once been empty - only seconds before - was now filled completely with a substance that looked and smelled exactly like tea.

The silence was broken by a loud thump, a crash of glass, and a fearful shout from the boy.

=-=-=-=-=-=%=%=%=-=-=-=-=-=  
><em>Meanwhile, back in London...<em>  
>=-=-=-=-=-=%=%=%=-=-=-=-=-=<p>

Professor Layton stirred to the sound of his alarm clock going off. He mumbled unintelligibly under his breath and rose quickly, shutting the infernal device off in the process. He looked around in surprise. What was he doing at home? He almost never spent much time here during the school year and certainly didn't remember coming here the night before.

Noting the time, he dressed in a hurry before realizing something very important was missing. He searched frantically knowing the clock was ticking, but to no avail. The commotion his rushed scramble had been causing caught the attentions of his two companions, and soon they were standing in the doorway in wonder.

"Um, did you lose something, Mr. Layton?"

Hershel quickly looked up, startled by the unexpected voice. He couldn't believe his eyes. "Luke? Flora? What on Earth are you two doing here?" His face registered pure confusion.

"We live here, remember?" Luke joked, his nervous laughter dying quickly when he saw his mentor's expression remained unchanged. "Uh, Professor...?"

The man stared a moment longer before shaking his head and returning to his search.

"Never mind. What's important now is that we make it back to the school as soon as possible. Now where did I put-?" he trailed off as he kept searching. The two children looked at each other and shrugged.

"What are you looking for?"

"Maybe we can help you find it!"

Layton paused for a moment, then turned to face them, face flushed with a look of significant embarrassment. With one hand, he began fingering the brim of his hat as if fighting the urge to pull it down over his eyes.

"I-I'm ashamed to admit it, but somehow I seem to have, ah, misplaced my wand. Neither of you have seen it around anywhere by chance?"

"Your... _wand,_ Professor? ... What kind of wand?" Luke racked his brain trying to figure out what his mentor could be referring to, and doubted it was any of the cleaning supplies that came to mind.

Layton raised his eyebrows. "You see me with it all the time, Luke." The two stared perplexed at each other until Flora broke the silence.

Um, I don't think either of us has any clue what you're talking about, Professor."

Layton straightened up and took on a pensive expression, suspicion rising in the back of his mind. After a moment of thought, he came to a decision.

"I see. Forgive me, but I need to check a few things quick." The children stepped aside to let their guardian pass and watched curiously as he began to take a quick tour of his home.

His inspection confirmed his fears. There was absolutely nothing 'special' about this house. Items that should have been there were not, instead replaced by their more mundane (and often inefficient) counterparts. Everything that needed power ran on electricity.

Hershel stood in the living room and noticed he had been followed by the other two. One last check was needed to be sure of his theory.

"Luke, Flora. This may sound strange, but it's of vital importance that you answer me seriously. Is there anything at all you find strange around this house? Anything different than you remember?"

He remained facing away with his head turned slightly towards his companions. His head was tilted and his hat and coat rendered his expression unreadable. The children looked to each other before responding.

"No, Professor. Only your behavior lately."

Layton closed his eyes and placed a hand under his chin. That settled it.

This was the world from his dreams.

* * *

><p><em>Disclaimer: I own neither the characters nor the worlds depicted herein, but only the new way I've chosen to combine them and the story I tell.<em>

_-nazo!nin_


	5. Chapter 005: Reacquainting

**Chapter 005 – Reacquainting**

* * *

><p>Professor Layton stirred from his sleep, opening his eyes to the bright room around him. He was in yet another unfamiliar bed.<p>

Glancing around, he found himself in a large, open room with high ceilings. The room was quite long and contained a row of beds down either side of a central aisle. It reminded him of the sanitariums of old, but much cleaner and more welcoming.

"Oh good, you're awake! I was getting worried. You gave that boy Luke quite a fright!"

The voice was one he knew well. The lady had often helped him try to keep some semblance of order and cleanliness in his office at the University until Luke came along and volunteered his services. He didn't see her quite as often anymore, but they'd remained good friends all the same.

If she was here though, did that mean he was back at Gressenheller? Perhaps _everything_ after his class the day before had been a dream. Someone could have found him in the lecture hall and brought him here. Though he certainly didn't recall ever seeing an infirmary quite like this one on campus before.

"Rosa? It's good to see you," he spoke as he shifted to face the source of the voice he'd heard. As soon as he saw her though, a puzzled frown crossed his features. "Erm, I do not believe I've ever seen you wear that particular ensemble before. Is it new?"

The woman called Rosa gave him a funny look before marching over to the bedside and placing a hand on the man's forehead. "You aren't having trouble with your eyesight, are you Professor? I'm pretty sure this is about the only outfit you ever see me wear. Hrm, well still no sign of a fever anyway."

She removed her hand from Hershel's brow and stepped back to look at him. Upon his own closer inspection, he realized that what had at first appeared to be some sort of strange white lab coat on the woman before him actually seemed to bear significant stylistic similarities with the robe dream-Luke wore.

"No, no. I believe I'm fine," he sighed. "But I do wonder what I'm doing here," he nodded to the rest of the room before resuming eye contact. Rosa frowned.

"Well, according to Luke Triton, you'd been acting funny and out of it all morning. Said he'd been helping you get ready and that when he went to make you some tea you up and passed out right where you stood."

Layton frowned as well. All the evidence was pointing towards him still being in his dream. Why hadn't he woken up yet? And why, he realized with a shudder, was everything feeling more and more _real?_ His thoughts were interrupted by the echo of approaching footsteps down the aisle.

"Ah, Headmaster! Welcome," Rosa called out.

"Greetings Rosa. Hershel! I'm glad to see you're awake!" Layton turned at the sound of the not-so-new voice. Was that-?

"Dean Delmona?" he asked, surprised. Just how many of his acquaintances were going to make a cameo in this imaginary mess?

"Dean?" Rosa looked at the professor questioningly for a moment. She shook her head and shrugged, then re-addressed the newcomer.

"Sorry Headmaster Delmona, Professor Layton still isn't quite feeling like himself it seems." Hershel looked at Rosa, trying to figure out an appropriate response. Delmona, however, spoke up first.

"Dear me, so I've heard. A young student named Flora told me as much after I finished straightening out the arrangements." Delmona turned to the professor again. "She seemed quite worried for you. I'm sorry you haven't been feeling well. You don't have to worry though, everything's been taken care of so you can focus on your recovery!"

Was it just him, or was everyone overreacting? They also all seemed to think he was going nuts. Then again, with the way he was seemingly trapped in this cycle of recurring dreams the idea wasn't sounding so far-fetched anymore. Still, this was getting out of hand.

"I'm not sure why everyone is so worried about me all of a sudden. Passing out, while certainly never a good thing, hardly seems worth the amount of concern it's causing to you all. I assure you, now that I've been up for a bit, I'm feeling much better." The professor smiled with what he hoped appeared as convincing (yet false) confidence. He certainly _was_ feeling better, but he was far from being up _or_ confident.

The other two adults looked at each other warily for a moment, and he knew. His innocent ruse had failed; they didn't think he was okay at all. Layton decided it might be best to change the subject.

"Headmaster Delmona. If you don't mind me asking, what did you mean when you said everything had been 'taken care of'?"

Delmona's expression brightened into one of pride and accomplishment, and he beamed encouragingly at the professor.

"Why your classes of course! You certainly don't need the burden while trying to recover..." Layton raised an eyebrow. He would never conceive of teaching as being a burden, but in this twisted dream world he had to admit that this was a bit of a miracle to hear. "I spoke with the other instructors and two of them have offered most graciously to split your workload between them until you're back to full health."

Two other instructors? Given his apparent tendency to fill in dream roles from his real connections, Layton found himself both highly curious and something akin to afraid to find out more. "Really? Who are these two that have made such a generous offer? I must remember to thank them properly."

Delmona laughed cheerfully. "Hershel, I should think you'd be able to guess exactly whom they are, but given your current health concerns I won't hold it against you." The man laughed again and winked awkwardly to emphasize his poor attempt at humor. Receiving no response from Layton, he continued.

"A-hem, sorry. Professors Descole and Schrader will be teaching your classes until you are ready to return to your duties."

Layton couldn't believe his ears, but fought off his urge to say anything. No one he'd seen thus far had held quite the same role as he was used to, and all of his comments and questions only seemed convince people he was mad... Best to hold off until he could see the dream counterparts for himself.

Soon thereafter, _Headmaster_ Delmona excused himself while mentioning something about his granddaughter, leaving the other two alone in the room. After a bit of carefully-constructed conversation, the professor was able to confirm that this was indeed an infirmary, and that apparently dream-Rosa was the nurse in charge of it.

Eventually, she decided he was well enough to leave and finally allowed him to do so on the strict conditions he take things easy and be careful. He thanked her and took his leave. Once he reached the hallways, however, he realized he was entirely lost. Knowing that returning to Rosa for directions would only lead to being re-confined in the infirmary, he decided to do his best to appear merely to be taking a stroll.

It seemed to be working a bit. The grand stone hallways were quiet, and the few people he did see were either rushing or paid him no mind. He took what details he could to memory, attempting to build a mental map of his surroundings. Unfortunately, with the seemingly endless expanses in every direction, knowing where he was seemed an impossible ideal.

Eventually he found himself near a small door that seemed to be designed to lead into the back of a large room. On the other side he could hear voices - by the sound of it a great multitude of people were gathered. Accepting the risk, he cracked open the door and peeked inside.

The hall's size was astounding. Four tables of incredible length filled the majority of the room, every one of them filled near-capacity with what appeared to be this institution's students, shouting and laughing and dining with their friends. Closer to where he stood sat another long table with fewer (but more extravagantly-dressed) occupants, positioned to let them face - and presumably oversee - the vast sea of schoolchildren before them. They too were eating.

A sudden twinge in his stomach reminded Layton that he'd not had breakfast this morning, or so the dream-actors had told him anyway. Could one really get hungry in a dream? That didn't make much sense but neither did anything else. Looking up once more, he realized that someone was now standing right before him.

"Well look who's finally back! I haven't seen you join us since lunch yesterday. Finally remembered you can't eat books or parchment?" An energetic young woman was beaming at him. Hershel could only stare back blankly. "Yeesh, I guess the rumors were right - you really aren't feeling well are you?"

"E-Emmy?" The professor continued to stare in disbelief, a voice in the back of his mind disapproving of his currently poor manners. Emmy's expression softened at seeing his disordered mental state.

"Hey, come on. I bet you could really do with a proper meal." Emmy grabbed his arm gently and began to lead him towards the near table. Realizing this, Layton began to panic.

"W-wait! Emmy! I'm not sure I should really be here...!" He scanned the room again. The way things were arranged, everyone at the front table could be seen clearly by the entire room, and the last thing the professor wanted right now was attention. Emmy's smile saddened with concern as she paused and faced him.

"It's alright, Professor. Besides, it's more important that you take care of your nutrition, don't you think?" Layton hesitated and looked wearily around once more. He sighed.

"I suppose you're right. I-"

"Great! Let's go!" Emmy yanked the professor forward by his arm, already back to her usual energetic and determined self. He bit back a protest and let himself be led to an open seat next to her own. With a nervous glance to the student tables he sat down quickly, hoping his presence here after apparently missing his own classes would not cause a scene.

"Glad to see you up and about, Hershel! I heard you had quite the nap in the infirmary this morning," said a voice to his side. He looked up to be greeted by the kind face of his own mentor.

"Ah, Andrew! Yes... It seems I've not been in the best of conditions recently, or so everyone keeps telling me."

Andrew Schrader observed him with a brief but appraising glance before smiling and nodding. "I'm sure you'll be right as rain in no time! In the mean time though, I don't want to hear any rumors of you over-worrying or overworking yourself. Jean and I will keep things together, so you just hurry up and get better!" Schrader concluded with a jovial laugh and an overly eager pat on the professor's back.

Layton coughed lightly from the unexpected contact and forced a smile. "Thank you Andrew. This is incredibly generous of you both." He glanced down the length of the table in curiosity. A man in a large and decorative hat and white half-mask was looking his way. Upon noticing Layton's questioning face he sneered mockingly and returned to his meal with a dramatic flourish.

Hershel found himself very uncomfortable with the idea of that particular man teaching any of his classes... even if they _were_ imaginary. The man was magnificently intelligent, but experience had shown his morals and methods left much to be desired.

Deciding to push the matter from his mind for now, he turned his attention to the food before them all. He still wasn't sure how or why he felt so hungry in a dream, but if going through the motions made things more tolerable until he awoke, then he might as well humor his imagination.

Besides, as much as he considered the idea absurd and implausible, he was starting to wonder if it could be possible he actually _was_ awake, and all of this was actually real. Whatever the truth was, he needed to find it soon and figure out how to return everything to normal. Somehow.

To his relief, the rest of the lunch period went fairly uneventfully. A few students gave him strange or concerned looks (which Emmy insisted probably had to do with the professor's "odd choice of clothing" at the moment), but the meal passed without incident.

When the time came for him to leave, Layton was momentarily surprised to find Luke and Flora (dressed like all the other students, with her uniform colored yellow) waiting in the hall for him. They'd obviously noticed his presence at lunch, which in itself didn't surprise him at all. He was happy to see them though, and their company also afforded him the benefit of not appearing completely lost in the school's halls.

It was obvious from the children's demeanor and expressions though that they knew something was very wrong. Sure enough, as soon as they were back safely within the privacy of the room he'd awoken within that morning, the two young students turned to the bewildered professor and demanded to know what had been going on.

Not knowing what else to say, he started with the core worry that plagued his mind regardless of whether this world was still a dream or now somehow more real.

"I don't think I'm supposed to be here."

* * *

><p><em>Disclaimer: I own neither the characters nor the worlds depicted herein, but only the new way I've chosen to combine them and the story I tell.<em>

_-nazo!nin_


	6. Chapter 006: Revealing

**Chapter 006 – Revealing**

* * *

><p>Professor Layton sat as calmly as he could, stirring a cup of tea he'd made himself the proper not-out-of-thin-air way. Luke and Flora sat across from him, trying to decide how much of their mentor's story they believed.<p>

For lack of a better strategy, he'd simply decided to explain everything that had happened to him recently from his own point of view, starting with the first incidence he could remember of having his 'dream'. He knew it sounded crazy, but either this was all an argument with figments of his own apparently overactive imagination, or this was all really happening and he'd need all the help he could get.

To aid his case, he'd retrieved the journal from before, which had conveniently enough been left on the nightstand. Now it was lying open on Flora's lap, the girl in question staring at one of the passages once more. She fiddled with the hem of her robe as she considered, brows furrowed. Luke just stared into space, lost in thought as well.

The professor laid the spoon down and took a sip of his tea. If his mind was indeed making all of this up, it certainly was taking its sweet time. He looked to his companions with a sigh.

"It's alright. I understand if you don't believe me. I'm not even sure what I believe anymore... Maybe I _am_ losing my mind," he grimaced into his cup.

"No, I don't think you are, Mr. Layton." He looked up at Flora, his expression unreadable. She continued. "I know it's rather pointless for me to say this, but I'm also pretty sure _I'm_ not just part of some dream, mine _or_ anyone else's."

"For what it's worth, ditto," added Luke, staring at his feet. "I also wonder about my own dream, and the one you said the other-me had. That has to mean something too. Right, Professor?" The boy looked up seriously at his idol.

"Indeed. The problem is we're still left with no conclusive proof either way." Layton set his teacup down and propped one hand under his chin, supporting his elbow with the other, his eyes closed in contemplation. "That leaves us with the question of what we do now."

The trio sighed in unison. Their minds kept working in circles and they were developing a nice, matching set of headaches. Hershel opened his eyes and crossed his arms across his chest.

"No matter what this place really is, the two of you seem to belong here and thus should continue as normal despite whatever is happening with my own situation." His companions opened their mouths to protest but were stopped by a gesture from their mentor.

"As for myself, the only logical course of action I can see to take is to attempt to play along with these events as best I can until such time as an opportunity arises to solve these mysteries."

The children stared at the man thoughtfully, questions forming in their minds. Layton saw this and smiled defeatedly.

"I suppose this means I will need to learn as much as I can about this 'world' - and quickly - if I am to hope to fit in." He looked pointedly to each child in turn before continuting. "It seems, if you are willing, that I must request your help with this task."

Luke and Flora looked at each other strangely excitedly before turning back to their mentor with disturbingly eager grins.

Hershel found himself wondering just what he was getting himself into.

=-=-=-=-=-=%=%=%=-=-=-=-=-=  
><em>Once more, back in London...<em>  
>=-=-=-=-=-=%=%=%=-=-=-=-=-=<p>

Professor Layton was standing in the living room of his home, having just asked the two younger ones behind him if they'd noticed anything strange lately.

_Only his behavior,_ they'd said.

Which meant that he was dreaming again. That or the universe had somehow spontaneously shifted to one without magic, but that was essentially impossible. Now he himself shifting planes? Highly improbable but at least within the confines of reason.

For now he'd run with the dreaming theory. The simplest answer usually was supposed to be correct, was it not? That had made sense until people started constructing entire villages full of robots, anyway.

Just to be safe though, he'd play along. If there was anything he'd gained from years of teaching Muggle Studies, it was the ability to hide this greatest of secrets in plain sight. He never imagined he'd ever have to hide it from _these two,_ however.

He turned with a sad smile to face Luke and Flora, hoping they hadn't already written him off as nuts. They were watching him worriedly. "I'm sorry you two. It seems I'm a bit out of sorts this morning. I think I just need a bit of fresh air," he laughed nervously.

"We'll come with you!" Luke offered, suddenly with a determined smile on his face. Next to him, Flora nodded eagerly in agreement.

Hershel shook his head. "I greatly appreciate the offer, but I think it would do me best to have the time alone with my thoughts. I'm sorry, my boy," he frowned apologetically.

"But, Professor-!" Luke protested. Layton rapidly searched for an excuse before noticing the bookbags and prepared lunches by the door and realizing he didn't need one.

"I'm terribly sorry, but the answer is 'no'. Besides, don't the two of you have school today?"

At that, the two children panicked, realizing that in their concern they'd completely lost track of time and were now running late. Without another thought about the stroll they'd been denied they rushed to grab their things and ran out the door. Layton was finally alone and free to investigate. A few minutes later, he left as well.

The professor headed out into London. There were a couple places he wished to check. He was also curious to visit his old school, but between the relationship he apparently had with it in this world and the other, more pressing matters in play, it seemed best to hold off and avoid the place for now.

He made his way to a familiar street, lined with shops. The one he was interested in should be down a little ways and appear rather unassuming. When he reached the location it should have been however, he found the lot occupied by a garishly-colored novelty-import shop. What in the world was going on here?

In case the outer appearance was merely another facade to scare away the average person, he opened the door and entered. To his dismay, the inside was exactly what the outside had promised. After a quick tour of the store had shown no signs of a secret exit and the muttering of the word "cauldron" had only led the confused shop-keep to point out some oddly-designed flower pots, he gave up and left.

His second destination offered to answers either, and he left the train station frustrated. No sign of the platform, and Mr. Beluga (who at least recognized him still) had insisted that he owned no red trains at all, let alone secret ones to Scotland.

"You already know about the only secret route I've ever had! Now, unless you're wanting to go back to that forsaken place, go find a ticket booth. I'm a busy man!"

Layton pinched the bridge of his nose and grumbled in frustration. If this turned out not to be a dream, then he was feeling very helpless. With nowhere else he could think of to look at the moment, he decided he might as well quit putting off the inevitable.

When he next stopped off of a bus, it was in front of Gressenheller University.

His recent dreams had placed him in one of the lecture halls, teaching some rather populous classes, but gave very few details beyond that. Fortunately, in his real life he'd attended the school as a student for a few years, much to the disbelief of most of his current colleagues. That experience should be enough to figure out where anything - like the office he must have - might be.

Sure enough, it didn't take him long to locate the room. He grinned in amusement at the graphic of a top hat gracing the door and mused about how such a thing would go over back at his real office. Checking the keyring he'd found at home that morning, he quickly gained access to the workspace.

The room that greeted him past the door was a mess of papers and books, and the walls were lined with shelves containing a fascinating assortment of artifacts and fossils. Resisting the urge to satisfy his curiosity about the collection, he made his way past an old couch to a cluttered desk beneath a window along the back wall.

Taking a seat, Hershel began searching through the piles of notes covering nearly the entire surface. Before long he found a stack that resembled his own lecture notes - scrawled in familiar handwriting by an unfamiliar pen. Checking the listed dates, he found the folder that corresponded to that day's course load. Only one lecture scheduled!

His momentary optimism soured though upon reading the topic heading. _"Wooden Totems of the Senfyll Caverns?"_

Why couldn't he dream about teaching a topic he actually _knew?_ Was this even real? He flipped through the notes with a frown. It all seemed well enough, but he'd certainly never heard of any thing or place with a name like that. Spying a notation in the corner of one page revealed what appeared to be an organizational code and a room number - likely a storage room for the department.

Thinking he may be able to wing it through the lecture if he had a decent look through the materials hidden there, he left the office, locked the door, and sought out the storage room, notes still in hand. Once inside, it was straightforward enough to find the location indicated by the notation - a medium-sized bin stacked in a sliding-shelf unit against one wall.

Layton pulled out the appropriate bin and looked inside. Filling the drawer were a large number of thin wooden rods, each no more than about a foot in length and carved with unique and intricate designs.

Picking out one that caught his eye and examining it more closely, the professor could understand why the notes had referred to these items as 'totems'. The one he held bore a decent resemblance to the animal-carved totem poles of certain indigenous American cultures, albeit in a very different and distinct artistic style. This definitely seemed more European in design, but he couldn't place its origins.

Setting it gently back with the others, he glanced again over the collection. Not all contained such an animalistic or crowded design, but there was a general trend towards nature and organic themes.

With a sigh, Hershel rested his forearms and head on the edge of the bin, trying to decide if his interest in the field and the stack of notes he'd recovered would be sufficient to get him through the afternoon without his being proclaimed incompetent, insane, or an impostor.

"If this is still a dream, please let me wake up already," he pleaded to no one in particular, voice muffled a bit by the sleeves of his coat. Back home to the waking world, where he generally knew what to expect, didn't have to lie to his students or the world, and wasn't apparently stripped of his natural abilities.

Drawing a visual comparison in his mind, it suddenly felt like the so-called totems were there to mock him. He smirked and laughed cynically, losing his will to deal logically with the world. He was really getting sick of these dreams. With a laugh that forbade of one reaching their breaking point, he muttered two useless words under his breath.

"Accio wand."

An instant later, Layton's eyes snapped open in shock. One of the 'totems' had nudged its way through the others to rest gently against his hand. Lifting his head, he blinked down at the wooden rod in disbelief. This was either a miracle or a joke beyond cruelty. He picked up the apparent wand and turned it over in his hands, examining the object carefully. Was it... possible?

At least there was an easy way to find out. The professor glanced around quickly to be sure he was alone. Satisfied there were no prying ears or eyes, he gave the rod an experimental flick and muttered the simplest command he knew.

"Lumos."

The only things in the room brighter than the results were Hershel's excitement and relief. He neither knew nor cared why or how, but somehow he'd found an honest-to-goodness, working wand. For once, something was going right in this nocturnal fiasco. He smiled. Now he just needed to figure out how to deal with everything else.

As he stood in the storage room pondering his next move, he became aware of the sound of voices approaching the door. Preferring still to have as little contact as possible with the dream denizens, he concluded another experiment was in order. With a quick motion of his newfound tool, he sent the storage bin sliding back into place where he'd found it. Across the room the sound of a key sliding into the lock could be heard.

_Time to test my theory._ A grin.

When the newcomers entered the room, there was no longer a soul in sight, nor any evidence there had been just a moment before.

With a familiar and slightly jarring rush, the professor found himself back in 'his' office. Unfortunately, despite having locked the space earlier, he was no longer alone. With a scream, a shout, and a toppling chair, his two unexpected guests found themselves staring in practically-terrified disbelief at the man who had appeared, quite literally, out of thin air. He stared back with dread.

"P-p-professor?-!" The children looked to be on the verge of passing out from shock. Mind going blank in panic, Layton let the wand slip from his grasp to hit the floor with an ominous clatter.

This was going to take some explanation.

* * *

><p><em>Disclaimer: I own neither the characters nor the worlds depicted herein, but only the new way I've chosen to combine them and the story I tell.<em>

_-nazo!nin_


	7. Chapter 007: Explaining

**Chapter 007 – Explaining**

* * *

><p>Professor Layton stirred from his momentary trance as Luke managed to recover his voice.<p>

"How- how did you-? Where- Here- What's going on?-!" The fright in the boy's eyes made the professor cringe with guilt. Flora had yet to speak but the look she gave spoke volumes - every figurative tome consisting exclusively of unspoken questions.

Layton turned his desk chair outward and slumped down into it, at a complete loss for words. Where to begin? How much to tell? Would it disgrace him for life just to use a memory charm and make a run for it? It disgusted the gentleman in him even to think such a thing.

He still didn't know if this was even real. It was becoming clear, however, that in some way, shape, or form it wasn't entirely fake either. All he could do was play along. Time for blunt honesty.

"I don't think I belong here, wherever 'here' is," he offered with as serious an expression as he could muster under the stress. The statement only seemed to confuse the children more.

"Uh, Mr. Layton? I'm not quite sure I understand..."

Hershel sighed and propped his head up with his arm, elbow on the chair's armrest and knuckles curled against his temple. He regarded the two young people before him sadly.

"How should I put this? Oh dear..." He pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand before continuing. "Well, to be entirely honest, I'm of the mind to believe I'm imagining this whole day, present conversation included."

_"Imagining,_ Professor?" Luke looked at his mentor incredulously. Flora's face was now rather unreadable as well. It seemed something was seriously wrong with their guardian.

"Nothing about this day has matched my life as I know it. Locations, relations, everything is... twisted... from the way I recall things should be. It has been rather... disorienting, to say the least." The professor had shifted his position again, and now rested his forehead against his interlaced fingers, appearing rather weary to the world.

Luke and Flora looked to each other, each hoping the other had some clue as to how to proceed. Their extended silence triggered an upwards glance from Layton. Apparently he'd have to continue himself in order to break the silence.

"I've, well, I've been having a series of strange dreams lately," he offered, softly. The children broke their stare and returned their attention to the man before them, listening intently. Seeing this, the professor continued, voice remaining quiet with hints of sadness and concern.

"Each night, I've found myself immersed in visions of what I could only describe as being some sort of 'alternate reality'. I recognize parallels between this alternate existence and my own, but the differences are quite significant." He sat up in the chair, crossing his arms and closing his eyes in thought.

"What concerns me most at the moment is that, despite how _real_ the events of today have felt, the life I find myself living here is the one from these dreams, and not my own." He re-opened his eyes and looked to his companions solemnly.

"You think... this is all a dream?" Flora's voice was shaking a bit, eyes seeming almost fearful.

"I honestly don't know what I think. Nothing makes sense to me right now. This feels far too realistic to be dreaming, and yet dreams don't just manifest this way."

A rather uncomfortable silence filled the room at this point, each of the trio lost in their own increasingly-ludicrous thoughts. Hershel reached down finally to collect his forgotten wand and began fiddling with it absently. Flora noticed and gave in to her curiosity.

"What... is that, Professor?"

Layton seemed to snap out of a trance and realized just to what the girl was referring. His chest tightened - he'd forgotten this whole predicament had started with him suddenly showing up out of nowhere. He wasn't sure he was prepared to reveal fully just what he was.

"Er, it's a wand, my dear," he forced a slight smile. Receiving nothing but stares of further confusion as a response, Layton began glancing around looking for something in the room. "I suppose it may be easier to simply show you than try to explain... ah! There we go."

The professor's eyes settled on an empty teacup on the table. He made his way over to it and, making sure his young wards were watching, cleared his throat, muttered what sounded to them like nonsense, and tapped the strange wooden object gently against the rim of the cup. Their eyes widened in wonder as the vessel was suddenly filled near the top with a steaming liquid that smelled suspiciously like on of their mentor's favorite tea brews.

Hershel looked down at the two expectantly. He wasn't sure _what_ he expected specifically, but it was nigh impossible not to receive some sort of strong reaction when someone is shown their first example of real magic. Luke shifted his gaze repeatedly from the no-longer-empty teacup to his waiting mentor and back before shouting out.

"Blo-bloody-! Professor! How did you-?-! Where did it-?-! This is some sort of trick right?" The boy looked around frantically for something to explain what he'd just seen. Layton in turn winced at the boy's outburst and frowned.

"Luke, a gentleman watches his language. As for the tea... well, it wasn't a trick, I'm afraid."

Luke looked guilty at his slip of the tongue and muttered a quiet apology. Flora, on the other hand, was now holding the teacup delicately, turning it every-which-way in careful examination, eyes remaining wide.

"If it wasn't a trick, then what are you suggesting, Mr. Layton? That it was some sort of... magic or something?" she laughed nervously. The professor smiled sadly and sat back down across from the other two.

"Actually, that is exactly what I am suggesting, Flora, my dear. After all, it is the truth of the matter. Ah... oh dear..." Layton couldn't quite recall ever seeing either child's face quite so shocked or disbelieving as they appeared right row. Not even when they (his own 'they' anyway) had learned that they too had magical capabilities of their own and could join him at the school the next year.

"Magic... is _REAL?"_

"Well, where I come from anyway it is. One of the key differences in my dreams has been that it doesn't seem to properly exist here. Considering that, how I managed to find a working wand is... beyond... me..." He trailed off, realizing the children were barely paying attention to his words any more.

"How long have you been able to do this?-! W-why didn't you tell us about it?"

"I... er, well... that is to say..." The professor found himself suddenly flustered, thrown off by the question. "This gets back to what I was saying about my dreams. The way I remember things, not only do you two know about these abilities of mine, but you are able to use magic yourselves as well."

"Wha- no way!" Now the children seemed more awed than frightened as they stared at him. Flora seemed even to have completely forgotten about the cup she held, Layton noticed with a chuckle.

"May I?" he gestured to the tea, causing the girl to look down in surprise before nodding with an embarrassed blush and passing it back across the table. The professor smiled warmly at her and accepted the offered cup. "Thank you, my dear."

"O-of course." She looked lost in her thoughts again. "Mr. Layton, can you do... other things... as well?" Curiosity had returned to her eyes at last.

"Hm? Oh, yes. Trust me, magic is not limited merely to making tea," he laughed, enjoying a sip of the aforementioned beverage. "Quite many things can be achieved through its use."

"Like appearing out of thin air?" Hershel nearly choked on his drink at that question.

"Er, yes. That would be one example." He took a moment to regain his composure, trying to decide whether to elaborate further or not. Figuring no further harm could come of it, he went with the former.

"What you saw earlier, that is called 'Apparition'." He paused to gauge the expressions on his companions' faces, then continued. "It is a technique that allows one to move nigh-instantaneously from one point in space to another-"

"You mean like teleportation?-!" Luke nearly knocked the small table between them over as he jumped up from his seat in shock. "Er, s-sorry," he sat back down again quickly, blushing at his outburst.

"Haha, perfectly alright my boy." The professor gently straightened the table while an amused smile played across his features. "But yes, that is essentially the idea."

"Wicked..." Luke murmured in awe. Layton raised an eyebrow at the boy. Now that there was some explanation given for the decidedly unusual events, the children seemed to have turned from fear to eager excitement about the whole matter. Whether that would turn out well or not had yet to be seen.

Silence filled the room once more. Hershel finished his tea and stared into the bottom of the empty cup momentarily before setting it down on the table and turning to look seriously at the desk behind him. He grabbed the lesson plans he'd found earlier and scanned over them once more with a frown.

"You'll have to remind me, when is my class this afternoon? I'm afraid I'm not quite familiar with my own schedule here," Layton confessed with a sigh. Luke looked at him in concern.

"It's in a little over two hours." He worriedly noted the look in his teacher's eyes. "Are... you prepared to handle it? I mean, if everything else has been different than expected, are your lesson plans as well? Topic-wise, I mean?"

Layton smiled defeatedly. "More different than you can imagine, I'm afraid."

"How so? Maybe we can help-?" Flora looked to him hopefully. "I'm not sure _how,_ but topic order, or... I don't know, _something..."_

"I greatly appreciate the offer my dear, but things are a bit more complicated than lesson order, it seems. As far as my memories are concerned, I've never even been on the faculty of this school, let alone taught a full course on archaeology. A lecture here or there perhaps, but it is not my forte, as it were." He glanced around the office.

"Apparently, here, it is supposed to be. What's more, I've never heard of most of the references in these notes - the locations, cultures, people - none of it is familiar in the slightest," Layton sighed. Luke and Flora's faces went pale.

"This isn't good..."

It was quickly decided to postpone the lesson officially, and pray that answers could be found before having to postpone it indefinitely.

=-=-=-=-=-=%=%=%=-=-=-=-=-=

Back in the circular living space, Professor Layton sat before a table now absolutely covered in books, each apparently on a topic stranger-sounding than the last. On either side of him sat Luke and Flora, dressed in their dark robes and chattering the now-weary man's ears off.

Everything they had to say was quite important to his understanding of the world he now found himself in (the question of dream vs reality having been set aside before as momentarily irrelevant), but the sheer multitude of facts and concepts was simply overwhelming, even to a man of such intellect as the professor.

"I'm sorry you two, but I seem to be hitting my limit here for tonight," Layton strained, rubbing his temples, eyes squeezed tightly shut. When he opened them again, the now-quiet Luke and Flora could see what looked curiously like dizziness barely being contained behind a calm facade. He smiled at them tiredly.

"Thank you both for all of your assistance - it is greatly appreciated." The children nodded eagerly in response.

"Of course! You know we'll always help you, professor!"

"Hmm, indeed..." Hershel managed a half-laugh as his eyelids began to droop stubbornly. Before he knew it, he was out like a light, still flanked on either side by the children.

Upon seeing their mentor's state, Luke and Flora looked understandingly to each other with a giggle before settling down into the couch themselves for the night.

Somehow, they doubted the man could be mad at them even _if_ he minded their decision.

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><p><em>Disclaimer: I own neither the characters nor the worlds depicted herein, but only the new way I've chosen to combine them and the story I tell.<em>

_-nazo!nin_


	8. Chapter 008: Reuniting

**Chapter 008 – Reuniting**

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><p>Professor Layton stirred from his unexpected rest to find himself slouched on the couch from the night before, the sun's morning rays poking through the cloud cover to stream through the window. With a chuckle he noticed the still-slumbering forms of Luke and Flora resting peacefully beside him.<p>

Taking care not to disturb them, he rose from the sofa. Choosing a tome from the intimidating piles that had formed last night, he made his way to a nearby armchair, determined to resume his study. With some trepidation, he opened the volume to its introduction and began to read.

After spending the night avoiding the subject as much as possible (a rather immature approach to academics, he chastised himself mentally) he'd decided it was time to face pseudo-reality and learn what he could about magic itself. It was with that (still ridiculous-sounding) notion in mind that he'd chosen his current reference material - an introductory book on the basics of spell casting.

Hershel frowned. He was not far into the book yet and already it was obvious that he would get very little understanding from the material without giving in and... _trying it._ He cringed at the thought. The mere idea of magic even existing had already led him to quite the uncomfortable nap yesterday, and the idea of doing it himself (if even possible) - well, to be honest it freaked him out.

The truth, however, remained: magic was not a spectator sport.

Marking his page, Layton set the book down on the arm of the chair, rose, and made his way over to the untouched bed. Resting delicately on the nightstand was a finely carved wooden rod. The children had explained the night before that it was a wand - a _magic_ wand - and that this particular one was, apparently, _his._ He picked up the mysterious object and carried it back over to the chair.

Retrieving the textbook again, the professor leafed through an early section he'd just read, searching for the best place to start with actual experimentation. He still couldn't believe he was actually going to try something so _preposterous,_ and the few strains of sanity still clinging adamantly to his sense of proper reality rehashed this thought over and over like a broken record in his mind.

Suddenly overwhelmed by his self-warring mind, he snapped the book shut once more and focused on deep calming breaths. This was ridiculous. The concept of magic was, of course, but even more so was his overbearing and inexplicable resistance to accepting it - despite strong evidence to its favor. He prided himself on keeping an open mind in his lifelong pursuit of knowledge; this wasn't like him at all.

He needed to relax and re-approach the subject fairly. Hershel smiled at the thought, an idea forming in his head. Why not relax and face his phobia at the same time - two birds with one stone, as they say? With a quick circuit of the room he gathered the necessary materials and returned to sit in the chair.

On a small, makeshift surface in front of him, the professor placed a clean cup and a scrap of parchment containing a rather Latin-sounding phrase scrawled in Luke's handwriting. Feeling rather silly, Layton took the so-called 'wand' in his hand and studied the words written before him before continuing. This was it. He gulped.

Speaking softly so as not to wake the two still sleeping soundly on the couch, he tried to match the pronunciation he'd been told before, the strange words feeling quite foreign as his mouth formed the appropriate sounds. As he did so, he also brought the wand's tip gently to the edge of the cup and gave it a light tap, not expecting anything to actually happen.

He nearly knocked the heavy armchair over in shock as the cup suddenly filled with liquid. _Impossible!_ And yet there it was. He stared, flabbergasted, at the enigma before him. Had he actually just made _tea_ appear _out of thin air?_ Too stumped to think about what he was doing, he reached shakily for the comforting beverage and took a large sip.

A moment later, both the teacup and the professor were on the floor, the former's contents spilled and the latter trying hard not to gag.

That was NOT tea. It was hell frozen over in liquid form and filled with unholy pillars of salt. Why hadn't he at least noticed the complete lack of heat before imbibing that... _abomination?_ Then he would have had pause enough to prevent his current state of disgust.

Hershel allowed himself to lie back on the floor, groaning at his (literally) gross error. At least he'd managed to answer some questions during the fiasco. For one thing, he'd found personal proof that wherever this place was, magic existed there.

He'd also learned the hard way what the boy had meant when he'd said some spells were much more difficult to get right than others. Frowning, he closed his eyes and continued to lie there, definitely not feeling very motivated to try again just yet.

A short distance away, back on the couch, Luke and Flora were beginning to wake up themselves. Yawning and stretching weary limbs stiff from an awkward sleep, they didn't notice at first where they were located, but focused instead on the rather odd sight before them.

"Uh... Mr. Layton...?" Flora stifled a yawn. "What are you doing on the floor?" Never mind the cup and spilled liquid, or the strange stick in his hands. Layton reopened his eyes and turned his head towards the dozy pair.

"Er, nothing. Nothing really. Long story - nothing to worry about...!" He didn't particularly feel like admitting his embarrassing screw up to the pair, although he did find some reassurance in the fact that at least this brew hadn't foamed or congealed. Now _that_ had been something that could have been more believably explained as magic than chemistry.

Luke watched curiously as the man got up from the ground and brushed himself off before reaching down and collecting the professor's dropped cup for him. He look at it funny for a moment before handing it to his mentor with a slightly confused laugh.

"You seem to have spilled your tea, Professor." Layton looked into the bottom of the empty cup and cringed, fiddling nervously with the wand in his other hand. Luke noticed the object and perked up with excitement.

"Ooh, you should just make yourself a new one!" suggested the boy, grinning and pointing eagerly at the magical tool. Hershel, in turn, paled at the thought.

"A-actually Luke, maybe you should do it..." There. Now there would be questions and he'd have to admit his failure to his pupils. As expected, the children looked at him quite confusedly. Not as expected, however, was the rest of their response.

"Uh, I can't do magic like you can, Professor - you know that!"

"Neither of us can, remember? You had to explain to us how the world you come from is magical and all after we saw you use it at the University yesterday."

"Wha- I wasn't at the University yesterday! I've been here with the two of you trying to teach me just what in the world this strange place is! And I certainly don't know magic..."

There was a long silence as the three stared at each other, processing what everyone had just said. A mixture of realization, shock, and disbelief dawned simultaneously on their faces. Layton broke the ice to confirm their mutual fears.

"You two. No magic, ever?"

"Never. You?" Luke replied.

"Most definitely not, my boy." He refused to count the 'tea' incident.

"And... you still teach archaeology?" murmured Flora, hopefully.

"Wha-? What else would I teach?"

Luke and Flora shared a brief glance before rushing their bewildered mentor and embracing him rather forcefully.

"PROFESSOR!" they cried out in unison as the man in question struggled to maintain his balance under the two-pronged, affectionate assault.

"I suppose this means this really is no longer just a recurring dream. Now the question is, just where exactly _are_ we?" Layton looked off into space, quite worried once more. His companions, now calming back down, finally properly took in their surroundings, panic growing on their faces as well.

"T-this definitely isn't where we fell asleep last night..."

=-=-=-=-=-=%=%=%=-=-=-=-=-=

That same morning, back in London, Professor Layton woke up on his own couch as well, again flanked on either side by the sleeping forms of Luke and Flora. After the incident at the University, to say they were curious about him and his understanding of the world would be a grave understatement.

He supposed he couldn't find it too surprising then when the two proceeded to hound him with excited and confused questions for the remainder of the day and well into the evening. His secret already out in the open, he'd given in and gone along with the interrogation - for the most part anyway - and come to the weary conclusion that his young friends would always be a handful no matter what strange world he managed to find himself in.

Hershel moved to get up from the couch, only to discover he'd been unknowingly recruited into supporting the children's slumbering postures. His initial surprise was quickly replaced by a smile that hinted of unvoiced laughter. He settled back into the seat and reached inside his jacket for his replacement wand, moving carefully to avoid elbowing his young apprentice in the head.

There was certainly one big advantage to having the two know about his abilities: now he could use them freely. With a few brief, well-practiced motions of the magical implement Layton was able to retrieve the cup he'd left out on the table the night before, clean it out, and fill it anew with fresh, steaming tea.

If he was going to be stuck here for a while yet, why not enjoy it?

A short while later he finished the drink and returned the cup once more to the table nearly motionlessly with magic. Checking and seeing that the children seemed no nearer to releasing him on their own (and indeed nearly losing control of one arm when a dreaming Luke misinterpreted the professor's gently nudging limb as something huggable), he rested his head against the back of the couch and soon rejoined his companions in sleep.

When he next awoke it was to find the aforementioned two nudging _him_ awake this time. They seemed a bit alarmed and confused, but not about him.

"Professor! What's going on? How did we end up at your house...?"

Layton blinked a few times, not yet fully awake from his nap. "Whatever do you mean, my boy? The two of you kept me up half the night discussing magic before we all fell asleep here. Surely you remember?"

"I remember all that, Mr. Layton, but this isn't the couch I remember falling asleep on." Luke nodded in agreement with the girl's statement. Hershel looked at the two of them, perplexed.

"The only other couch we saw yesterday was the one at the University office, but I assure you, none of us fell asleep there." Luke and Flora looked at each other in confusion.

"Uni...versity? What University?"

"I'm sure we were in the Professor's room back at school, surrounded by our old magic texts! But I don't see any of that here..."

Layton sat up straight at that last comment. "You two... know magic?"

The children paled. "Uh... I thought we established that yesterday?"

"Quite the opposite, actually, as I recall things." The professor looked into space, deep in though, expression unreadable. "It seems out mix-up has been further confounded by a misplaced reunion..."

Luke and Flora just stared at their mentor in confusion.

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><p><em>Disclaimer: I own neither the characters nor the worlds depicted herein, but only the new way I've chosen to combine them and the story I tell.<em>

_-nazo!nin_


	9. Chapter 009: Discussing

_I have one of my AU drawings online now, and hope to have more uploaded for you sometime soon. If you are interested in seeing them, any and all art I post for this story will be viewable at tinyurl dot com slash DreamstateAU_

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><p><strong>Chapter 009 – Discussing<strong>

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><p>Professor Layton sat in the strange circular room, absently stirring a cup of tea. It had taken some looking, but he'd finally managed to find a proper tea set and leaves tucked away amongst his apparent counterpart's belongings. He'd also found ample evidence that the man was as much of a disorganized pack rat as he knew himself to be.<p>

With a mental laugh, he recalled how the alternate Luke had, of course, seemed to know where everything could be found. At least these alternate worlds placed some value in consistency. (_Though really, why did the other Luke feel the need to put the tea set away again yesterday?_ He shook his head.)

Currently, the boy he now knew to be his own Luke was sitting across from him, accompanied, as he often was, by the corresponding version of Flora. Their normal youthful joy was nowhere to be seen, concern instead gracing their features as they sat there.

"So... you started having dreams about this place each night, and then just woke up one day to find yourself actually here?"

"That is the situation as I understand it to be, yes." Layton paused to sip his tea in thought. "And somehow now, it seems the two of you have been dragged here as well."

"I remember... th-the other you... he said something very similar happened to him. Do you think that means... the other Luke and I that you met..."

"They must be back home where we're supposed to be?" Luke finished the thought aloud for Flora.

"I imagine so. Something seems to have caused us to switch places with our respective counterparts, but for the life of me I cannot fathom how or _why."_ The professor stared into his teacup, frustration wearing its way through onto his normally reserved features.

With a sigh, the man emptied his drink in one last overdramatic swig and reached immediately for the teapot to pour some more. Luke and Flora watched in surprise. The attitude in his motions seemed more at home to the occasional bar scenes they'd see in TV or movies or to one of those crazy foreigner coffee addicts they'd see visiting town from time to time. This display of desperate drink-downing just seemed _wrong_ coming from the normally controlled, composed, and proper gentleman sitting before them. The professor was getting frazzled.

"So, you said we - the other we - were telling you all about this place last night?" Luke sought to change the subject before his mentor found any other ways to freak them out with his odd behavior. Flora picked up on his plan.

"Oh, right! We heard a bunch about it from the other you back home as well! This... this is the world where magic is real, isn't it?" Layton seemed to snap out of whatever conundrum he'd left himself in and looked up, almost disoriented.

"Hm? Oh-oh yes, it is. Apparently this place we're in is an entire school dedicated to the subject." The curiosity now on his face was definitely less disturbing to the children, and they embraced the new line of discussion readily.

"Our clothes, they look like some kind of school uniforms. Do you suppose our counterparts are studens here?" The two's eyes filled with wonder at the thought of attending lessons about spell casting instead of P.E. and other mundane subjects. Hershel couldn't help but smile at their intrigue.

"I happen to know you indeed are. As for myself, apparently I am one of the school's instructors... Certainly a far cry from my usual archaeology lectures..." the professor drifted off with a frown. Flora giggled in response earning her a questioning glance from the man.

"Something tells me neither of you is going to be actually holding many classes while we're switched," Flora offered. Layton stared blankly. Luke took things a step too far.

"I wonder if his students here are as used to sudden class cancellations as they are back home?" the boy snickered, leading his mentor to facepalm.

_"Luke...!"_ Layton let out an exasperated sigh.

"Er... sorry, Professor..." they boy blushed with embarrassment, while still grinning slightly.

"I do have to wonder though, if the other us are students of magic here, do you think we could use it too?" Flora had found her alternate's wand tucked in her robes and was now eyeing it curiously.

"I have reason to believe we may, in fact, be able to do so," Layton replied, eyes shut and hand to chin in thought.

"That would be wicked..." Luke murmured, eyes wide in consideration of the implications of having magical potential. "Wait... 'reason to believe'? Professor, you aren't suggesting you've already _tried_ it, are you?" Two sets of young eyes were suddenly trained very intently on the man. He'd been caught off guard by the question and realized he'd have to come clean.

_Drat!_

"Er, well... y-yes, I did try one thing..."

"You did?-! A-and it worked?"

"What did you do, Professor?" Layton was trapped now. Defeated, he gave in.

"I wouldn't exactly say the magic _worked,_ my dear. Luke, well, I tried a spell your counterpart told me to conjure tea... Something was definitely summoned magically, but..."

"... It didn't come out right, did it?"

"No, no it most definitely did not." Hershel cringed at the memory of the horrid concoction. His reaction only further fueled the children's curiosity.

"Just how bad was it?" Young eyes eagerly awaited his answer. Layton tugged the brim of his hat down over his eyes.

"Let's... just say there was a reason I was lying on the floor when you two awoke this morning..."

The momentary silence was pierced suddenly by riotous laughter and a quiet, despairing groan.

=-=-=-=-=-=%=%=%=-=-=-=-=-=

Back in London, three familiar figures sat around the professor's kitchen table, each radiating an uncharacteristically strong air of seriousness. Layton had begun explaining what he knew of their current predicament to the two younger wizards, and now they sought to piece things together more coherently in their minds.

Their mentor may not have offered the information as a puzzle, but with the novelty of their arrival here still fresh and inexplicable, it certainly _felt_ like a puzzle, and a rather devious one at that.

"Okay, so there are two worlds - ours, where we have magic, and this one, where we don't."

"Correct."

"Except you somehow found a working wand anyway, despite magic not seeming to exist here?"

"Er... somehow yes. I have yet to find the logic behind such a thing..."

"And we three exist in both worlds simultaneously?"

"Something like that, it seems."

"Then you started having funny dreams about being in this other universe?"

"From what you told me earlier, my counterpart seems to have as well..."

"And suddenly you actually wake up here one morning to meet the other us?"

"Yes, I-"

"And now we're here with you too?"

"Somehow again, ye-"

"And there's another set of us back at the school who don't know a lick of magic?"

"That would appear to be the most likely case."

"Bloody-!"

"Language, my boy!"

"Sorry, Professor."

The three looked down at the table and sighed in unison. How exactly had all this happened to them and where in the world(s) could they even begin to start searching for a solution?

Somehow, they needed to find a way home. For them, and for their mysterious counterparts as well.

=-=-=-=-=-=%=%=%=-=-=-=-=-=

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

"ACK! Very funny, Flora." Luck stuck his tongue out at the girl, then made a grab for his cap. Thanks to her experiment, it was now hovering about a foot above his head, hanging in mid-air.

The professor looked up from his reading in bewilderment. Having no other leads to work from at the moment, the trio had decided to make use of the wealth of texts the alternate Luke and Flora had gathered the night before.

To the present set's delight, they'd discovered they did indeed share their counterparts' magical gifts. Now they just needed to figure out how everything worked. Although still somewhat less enthusiastic than the other two, the professor as well was delving into the strange new subject matter.

Right now however, he'd been distracted by the children's antics. He watched as his apprentice defiantly put his freshly-recovered cap back on his head while giving Flora a dirty look. The girl in question couldn't help but laugh. Hershel in turn unconsciously fiddled with the brim of his own hat before interceeding.

"Now, now you two. Play nice." Luke and Flora stared defiantly at each other for a brief moment before they both burst out laughing, wide grins all around. Layton chuckled to himself and shook his head. _Those two..._

He returned to his study as his companions did the same. He'd surrendered the book on spellcasting basics to the children and had now dug out a more advanced tome on magical theory from what appeared to be his alternate-self's personal collection. It was a much less practical approach to the subject, particularly for someone so new to it, but he'd always preferred in-depth explanations to simple 'do-this-do-that' instructions.

It also helped that the book basically took a much more 'scientific' look at magic than the introductory volumes. With those, everything had been too surreal and thus highly uncomfortable to him. With this, however, magic ceased being a freaky impossibility and now had managed to pique the professor's intellectual curiosity.

Between his newfound intrigue for the subject and a healthy does of prodding from the overly-eager children, he'd even been persuaded to give actual spellcasting another shot. So far all three had been having decent luck with their attempts, with the exception of the tea spell which none had so far managed to pull off right. (Despite his continued failure, Layton was pleased to see that each liquid was at least getting closer to its desired form, though it remained undrinkable).

All in all, things were progressing well for the trio. With any luck, soon they'd be prepared to at least handle the basics of the weird world they currently found themselves in. Once they managed that, the real investigation would begin.

=-=-=-=-=-=%=%=%=-=-=-=-=-=

In London, the displaced, magical version of the trio had arrived at the same conclusion: preparation is the key to both survival and understanding.

At least understanding the world itself was easier for this set - for one thing, they didn't have to teach themselves magic from scratch. And as far as getting along in a world without it, all three were already quite well-versed in the muggle lifestyle

That being said, as long as one is remembering to be careful to blend in, it certainly does make life a lot easier to wield magic anyway. It was with that idea in mind that the three found themselves back at the University, hoping no one would notice if they borrowed a couple more items from the storage room.

If they could find what they needed, then it would be time for their real investigation to begin as well.

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><p><em>Disclaimer: I own neither the characters nor the worlds depicted herein, but only the new way I've chosen to combine them and the story I tell.<em>

_-nazo!nin_


	10. Chapter 010: Searching

_**NOTICE:** From here on out, there will be **spoilers** for Unwound/Lost Future. You've been warned. =)_

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><p><strong>Chapter 010 – Searching<strong>

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><p>Magus Professor Layton stared down at the page before him in shock. He couldn't believe what he was reading. <em>Those muggles,<em> what in the world had they been _thinking?_

He set the notebook down unceremoniously on the desk and stared blankly out the window before him. Their mission to the University the day prior having miraculously been a success, Layton, Luke, and Flora had now turned their attentions to searching for explanations for their current locational predicament.

His own search had led the professor to finding his counterpart's personal and investigative journal. The same was now lying open on the desk top where it had been dropped a moment before. The page on top contained an entry from a recent adventure.

Layton's mind swam with the implications of his other-self's notes. Though they carried a sense of uncertainty about the reality of the events described, the basic apparent facts were all laid out for consideration.

A letter from the future? A mysterious clock shop. An entirely changed city in the blink of an eye. All starting around the event of a demonstration gone horribly wrong.

Time travel! The muggles in this universe had been experimenting with _time travel._ The very thought made him feel a little sick.

Moving through time in the magical universe was dangerous enough as it was, but at least they already had reliable technology like Time-Turners. The thought of attempting the same feat through muggle science and mechanics... honestly, it disturbed and worried him.

Glancing again at the journal, Hershel re-confirmed the entry date. This happened recently, or at least the parts not ten years in the future did, anyway. Did that even make sense? He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration at his other self.

Time travel in any form was risky enough. Doing so haphazardly with such unproven and highly questionable equipment was just asking for trouble. And here his counterpart had apparently let himself get dragged into the whole mess.

From his understanding of the universe at a scientific level, space and time were inextricably linked. And if that 'space' contained parallel worlds...

Layton let his posture slump and stared at the journal in disdain. Was this the reason? Had all the muddling with time in this universe messed with the spatial dimensions as well?

A sinking feeling was deepening in the professor's chest. The muggle world was dabbling in things it shouldn't. The wizarding world had already mastered time travel, so it had found new territory for its own mistakes. The successor to time travel research was to try to explore the dimensions.

He'd already found the subject to breed nothing but despair, but now he was being thrown back into it thanks to this other world's misguided attempts to break the laws of nature without a guiding force to ease the process.

Hershel unconsciously fingered the brim of his hat as he stared off into space, lost in his thoughts and with eyes filled with an empty sadness.

When he roused finally from his trance, he reached once more for the discarded journal. The professor honestly wished he could just pretend he'd never read what he had, but knew that would change nothing. Determined to find every hint he could about this puzzle he and his companions were trapped in, he returned to his reading.

There must be something more in these handwritten pages, and he would find it.

=-=-=-=-=-=%=%=%=-=-=-=-=-=

In the wizarding world Professor Layton, Flora, and Luke were beginning their own investigation. Unsure of where anything or anyone was in this strange place, it was agreed that their best first step would be to scout for any information they could find. To this end they were preparing for the highly-amusing prospect of going undercover - as _themselves._ At least no one would question their being here.

The three were now gathered in what was by now obviously identifiable as Layton's alternate's quarters. Luke and Flora were dressed as before in proper school uniform - including sweaters of blue and yellow, respectively, and dark robes.

The professor was dressed in black trousers and an orange tunic - overall very similar to his normal attire - but was staring uncertainly at the counterparts to his usual jacket and hat which he'd yet to don. Not caring particularly for the black-and-blue color scheme, he put on his counterpart's 'coat' - a full-length affair with more decorative elements than he was used to.

Odd as it was to him, he had to admit it was at least comfortable. All that remained now was the replacement for his hat - once again in the theme of black and blue, but with the added touch of a large blue feather tucked into the ribbon in the back. To be honest, he felt rather silly wearing it.

After a fit of giggling from the children, who admitted they actually thought the off-colored ensemble suited him surprisingly well, the trio was ready to set their plan in motion - or at least what currently passed for a plan under the circumstances.

Luke, Flora, and Layton stepped out into the ancient stone hallways. It seemed their timing was right, judging by the large masses of students all congregating in one general direction. Taking care not to get separated, the three allowed themselves to get swallowed up in the flow.

Before long, they found themselves outside the entrance to a room the professor had seen once before - which abundant chattering seemed to indicate was referred to as the 'Great Hall'. Forced now finally to separate and go their own ways, the three vowed to meet up in the halls as soon as the meal was over.

Professor Layton made his way around the outside of the room until he found the back door he'd used before. He was quite worried about how his misplaced group would fare when everyone seemed to know at least one of them - they matched their counterparts in personality, but a lifetime of memories is difficult to fake, especially without a guide.

They were trapped in this world now though, and it seemed their only decent chance of finding a lead - or anything really - to go on would be to ask the other denizens of this reality. With any luck, by the time breakfast was over at least _one_ of them would have _something,_ and none of them would be hauled off to the infirmary over their 'odd behavior'.

Hershel entered the hall and made his way quietly to the staff table, trying hard not to be noticed. (With wonder he realized his current, more outlandish outfit brought far less attention his way than his brown suit had the last time he was here). Upon his arrival, and before he could slip quietly into his seat, Emmy jumped up and hugged the now-startled man out of nowhere.

"Hey-hey! You decided to join us again!" she teased with a mischievous grin. Emmy stepped back and looked the man once-over. "You're dressed normally today as well. Must be feeling better, eh Professor?"

"Erm, yes, a little I suppose..." Layton stared back uncertainly, still surprised by the sudden hug. Emmy just laughed at his expression and took her seat with a smile. A friendly hand on Layton's shoulder indicated the arrival of another close companion.

"Good morning, Hershel!" Schrader moved quickly to his own seat and beckoned the professor to sit down as well.

Elsewhere in the hall, Luke and Flora had their hands full with their own 'reunions'. Unfortunately, unlike their mentor with his colleagues and friends (and enemies), the two children were finding far fewer familiar faces around them. When they had a chance to glance up at the staff table though, they found themselves as surprised as Layton had been.

They sat at two different tables, but their thoughts practically flowed as one as they recognized face after face in turn. Some stood out more than others, however.

"Wha- Descole?-! What's he doing here?"

"Don... Paolo...? Why would a mad scientist be on staff at a school of _magic?"_

"That guy on the end looks familiar too..."

"In the end seat, is that _Stachen?"_

While Luke and Flora were momentarily distracted by the school's apparently rather bizarre hiring practices, the Professor had in kind turned his searching gaze to the sea of energetic faces flooding the room before him. Every so often he'd catch the briefest glimpse of someone who seemed a bit familiar, but nothing stood out to him as significant.

That is, until an extremely familiar boy with messy brown hair and a green sweater approached one of the teachers on the other end of the table, carrying a small set of papers that looked well-used. His target of attention stood up to speak with him off to the side.

Hershel felt his eyes must be playing tricks on him (an uncomfortably common notion lately). Luke and Flora noticed the conversing pair as well to their own shock. Worry and confusion settled deep in all three's stomachs. What did this mean? Could those two really be...?

_"Clive and Dimitri?-!"_

=-=-=-=-=-=%=%=%=-=-=-=-=-=

Back again in London, magus Layton had been continuing his perusal of his counterpart's investigation journal. The whole concept of muggles attempting to mess with time was still bothering him greatly, but he'd been relieved to read that the rumors of himself becoming a past-obsessed criminal mastermind had proven nothing more than a hoax.

Something new was occupying his mind now though. The imposter's identity - the real criminal who would stop at nothing to complete his research - was a man he knew.

What's more, his earlier research in his own world had led to its own devastating incident. Ten years ago. The same time, the same people, the same research group.

_So she was lost here as well..._

_Parallel tragedies for parallel universes._

The professor's face was dark and pensive. Something very wrong was going on here, and now he finally had a lead, disturbing as its implications were.

He needed to find Dimitri.

* * *

><p><em>Disclaimer: I own neither the characters nor the worlds depicted herein, but only the new way I've chosen to combine them and the story I tell.<em>

_-nazo!nin_


	11. Chapter 011: Confronting

**Chapter 011 – Confronting**

* * *

><p>Professor Layton and the children wasted no time in meeting up the instant breakfast had finished. The sight of those two particular, and by now very familiar, faces discussing matters quite seriously amongst themselves brought back disturbing memories and brought on as well a very unsettling suspicion. If this wasn't coincidence... something very bad may be about to happen.<p>

Was that why they were here? To stop another tragic attack from occurring? In such a foreign world however, wouldn't their counterparts naturally fare better? It didn't make sense. Just what was really going on here?

"We may have a problem," three voices declared in unison as they regrouped in the stone hallway. Quick, only partially-surprised glances amongst the three confirmed they'd all seen the event in question. The tension in the air began taunting for a knife to cut it.

"This is a most definitely unsettling turn of events indeed," began the professor, moving his hand to his chin in thought, brow furrowing. "Knowing the chaos those two were capable of in our own world, I fear what may be possible in such a world as this. We must look into their actions before anything terrible can occur."

Luke and Flora nodded solemnly, remembering the rather destructive climax of their recent adventure. Something seemed... off... though. Something felt different (besides the magic), but not one of them could place the origin of the odd sensation. Ah well, one thing at a time.

"So what do we do now, Professor?" Luke looked up at his mentor with determination on his face. He would get to the bottom of this, no matter what it took. Flora offered her guess.

"We need to speak to Mr. Allen, don't we?"

"Correct," Layton nodded. He turned his head slightly as he noticed the man in question heading down the hallway away from them. "And the sooner, the better, I'd imagine."

He nodded to the other two and quietly motioned for them to follow as he began walking briskly after the suspicious man. Closing in, the professor called out.

"Dimitri!" The man turned around, slightly surprised. The trio caught up. "I was wondering if I might have a moment of your time? There is something I'd very much like to discuss with you."

The man regarded Layton with curiosity and confusion before resuming his course. "Unfortunately, Hershel, I have a class to teach at the moment. If you would care to stop by my office later however..." Dimitri trailed off as he trailed down the hall. Layton nodded in agreement.

"I'll be there. Thank you."

=-=-=-=-=-=%=%=%=-=-=-=-=-=

In London, the magus Professor Layton had managed to get a hold of that universe's Dimitri as well, and they'd agreed to meet at the scientist's lab. As such, Hershel and the children were now on their way. The professor brought his counterpart's journal along in case it would help lead the imaginably strange discussion they were about to have.

Besides, he hadn't finished reading it yet either. He was unsure of approaching Dimitri while still not having a sense of the entire story, but talking to him right away was of utmost importance, unread entries or not.

"So, where exactly are we going again, Professor?" Layton blinked out of his trance and turned to the seat next to him where his young apprentice was staring at him in a mix of confusion and concern.

"We're going to speak with an old acquaintance of mine..." With a quick glance around the bus to be sure no one was listening in, Hershel leaned closer to the children and continued in a low voice. "Where we're from, however, you know him as your Astronomy instructor."

"Professor Allen?-!" Flora blurted out just a tad too loudly, earning her a simultaneous cringe from her two male companions. She corrected her volume quickly. "Oh, sorry! But, why are we going to see _him?"_

The professor looked down at the tome in his lap with a frown. "In this world, the man is a scientist, and one of rather advanced skill at that. If the notes in this journal are to be believed, it seems he has been up to some rather... dangerous and unwise experiments of late." Luke and Flora shared a look at their guardian's words, realizing the suggested implications.

"Professor Layton, you don't think... this alternate-Professor-Allen's experiments..."

"May be responsible for bringing us here?"

"Responsible, no, but perhaps related. Somehow, I don't feel this was an intended consequence of the man's research. Unfortunately, I fear we may have been pulled in regardless."

The three displaced mages sat the rest of the trip in silence, each lost in their own thoughts and worries about their current predicament. Soon enough, however, the bus reached their stop and they disembarked for their final destination.

Journal in hand and face set with stony determination, Layton knocked thrice on the heavy door before him. After a moment, he was greeted by the sound of several locking mechanisms being undone before the door inched open to reveal a quite-familiar face.

"I must apologize for the extra security. One can never be too safe, especially when one has made as many enemies as I." The gray-haired man glanced side to side as if to make a point before locking his gaze firmly on the professor's eyes. "But enough of that. The past is, as they say, _the past..._ Please, Hershel, do come in."

Dimitri stepped aside to allow entry, and with some uncertainty his three guests made their way into the reclusive scientist's lair.

=-=-=-=-=-=%=%=%=-=-=-=-=-=

"So, Professor Layton, you've certainly wasted no time in coming to see me. My lecture's only just finished and here I find you camped outside my door, waiting for me? ... For a man so renowned for keeping himself exceedingly busy, you certainly seem to have much free time today."

Layton and the children stepped aside as Dimitri's presumably-magical counterpart unlocked his office door before ushering them inside. He made his way to his desk and sat, regarding his guests with curiosity. "Then again, I've been hearing curious rumors amongst the faculty that you're... not quite feeling 'up' to your usual responsibilities of late."

Dimitri paused and raised one eyebrow in thought. Unspoken questions lingered in the air before ultimately being discarded for another time. He continued. "Somehow I doubt that is what has brought you here today however."

"Actually, Dimitri, it is," the professor replied, pensive, "although I doubt it's quite in the way you expect."

Dimitri looked at him, surprised. "What? Really now? I'm not quite sure I understand."

Hershel gathered his thoughts before proceeding cautiously. "Let's just say something... rather strange seems to be occurring of late. First though, I was hoping you might answer a few question that have been troubling me."

_Something strange indeed._ Dimitri raised his eyebrow once more and affirmed his consent warily with a slight nod. "All right, go ahead, then."

"Thank you," Layton nodded politely in return. "Now then... Mr. Allen, I do apologize if this is none of my business, but I must admit I am most curious as to what you and a certain young man named Clive were discussing so eagerly at breakfast this morning?"

Dimitri's eye twitched almost imperceptibly briefly, but he quickly regained his composure. "Oh that? Nothing terribly exciting, I'm afraid. Merely one of my students asking for help with their Arithmancy assignment," he replied cooly with a gentle shrug.

His earlier slip hadn't gone unnoticed by Layton, however. Pausing to choose his next words carefully, he was suddenly interrupted before he could even start by a loud outburst originating to one side.

"Right then! An' we're supposed to believe _that?-!_ We all saw you-"

_"Luke!_ Do not be rude, my boy," Hershel reprimanded firmly before the boy could continue his sudden tirade and undermine all his attempts at subtlety and caution. Luke spun around to protest.

"But, Profess-!"

"Actually, I agree!" Luke found himself cut off once more, this time by Flora. "You two looked awfully suspicious this morning. Like... like you were _plotting!_ ... Or something. Something sinister!" With a huff, the girl gave a small nod and crossed her arms over her chest, attempting to stare menacingly at the man across the desk. In turn, her companions stared surprisedly at the usually shy, quiet girl.

Layton was the first to remember how to speak. He cleared his throat. "F-Flora? You as well...?" She didn't often act out like this, so it always threw him on the occasions she did. Dimitri, watching the awkward fiasco, glanced repeatedly between the three before him before sighing and considering giving in.

"Oh, let's stop the charade already, _Hershel._ You obviously hold the same suspicions as these two do, although you of course are being far less blunt about it."

The professor winced, realizing he was caught. "I'm sorry, Dimitri. It is improper of us to jump to conclusions like that. But... given what the three of us have been through in the last few months we seem to have become unfairly predisposed to it, at least as far as you and Clive are concerned."

Dimitri looked both a bit taken aback and confused. "I haven't the foggiest as to what you're referring, Layton, but I assure all three of you that there is nothing _sinister_ going on here." Luke and Flora shrunk back guiltily as Dimitri looked pointedly at each in turn. He sighed once more.

"I suppose if you really _must_ know, Clive is assisting me with some of my research. Sort of a special 'extra-credit' project if you will. He _is_ my best student, after all."

Layton stared blankly at the man before him, suddenly caught up in flashbacks of lies, deception, and destruction. Memories of a secret assistant who turned out to be the true mastermind, devoured by vengeful rage and fury. He felt his stomach turn to ice, and the discomfort reflected in his features. For the children, seeing their mentor's sudden state only served to fuel their own fears as well.

"D-Dimitri. This p-project of yours... it involves the-. You're researching time-travel, aren't you?" The professor stared concernedly at the man before him, praying silently that he was mistaken. Luck seemed not to be on his side however.

Dimitri stared back in shock, mouth agape. How could this man have come so close to the truth so quickly? "I... well... close."

_Close? What could he possibly mean by that?_ Hershel's brow furrowed in confusion as he waited for the 'scientist' to elaborate.

"I'm afraid there's nothing really exciting left for me to research in the field of time-travel, not when we have Time Turners and the like... Besides, it's far too easy to make a bloody mess of yourself with the things. All those laws and regulations and potential paradoxes... No, what the boy is helping me with, Professor, is a continuation of my old work on the nature and existence of multiversal planes and methods for formation of artificial gateways between them."

The professor continued to stare at the man silently, not yet fully comprehending, but with his sense of dread increasing by the moment. Still standing next to him, the children looked openly and outright puzzled.

_"Luke, what's a 'multiversal plane'?"_ Flora whispered to her friend. Just as lost as she was, he could only shrug helplessly in response.

Overhearing them, and with slight aggravation at having to 'dumb down' his explanation, Dimitri reiterated his earlier statement with a grunt. "Multiversal planes. Parallel universes. Alternate realities. And with enough effort, the ability to travel freely between them."

The room suddenly went dead quiet as everyone took in the man's words. Professor Layton's expression slowly began to fill with horror and disbelief as his suspicions were confirmed. _No. This... this had to be the reason..._

A quiet whisper finally broke the silence. "Why, Dimitri?" Layton managed to choke out despite his shock. Dimitri's expression turned dark, cold, and pained. He turned away.

"To finish what we started... and... to fix the mistakes we made all those years ago..." He hesitated before continuing. "And for her. I want to find her... Hershel..."

Before any more could be said, the office's door suddenly was thrown open in a panic. There in the doorway, eyes wide, stood Clive. Ignoring the others in the room, he rushed straight to his instructor's desk.

"Professor Allen! I was just checking on our equipment between classes, and something very strange is going on. I was sure we didn't leave any experiments running, but for some reason all of our detectors are going haywire!"

* * *

><p><em>Disclaimer: I own neither the characters nor the worlds depicted herein, but only the new way I've chosen to combine them and the story I tell.<em>

_-nazo!nin_


End file.
